


Wayne Day

by Titch360



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:18:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7768264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A company holiday allows for some family bonding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wayne Day

Wayne Day

 

Jason wandered the halls of Stately Wayne Manor, staring in wonder at all the old places he used to know.  It was still a little surreal being back in this house openly.  He didn’t have to sneak around.  He didn’t have to make sure no one else knew he was here.  He was free to come and go as he pleased, and he was welcomed any time he stepped through the door.  It was a change that Jason had to admit was taking a while to get used to.

As he was just following his feet and letting his mind wander, Jason soon found himself somewhere unfamiliar.  This was to be expected.  It was a big house, and he really hadn’t spent a lot of time here over the past several years.  He knew that there were many areas of the spacious abode that hadn’t seen a human in years, if not decades, and this was obviously one of them.

Jason looked around as a thought hit him.  _I know Alfred is dedicated to his job, but this hallway is awfully clean for an abandoned area of the house.  There has to be something going on here that no one is talking about._

Up ahead, Jason saw and heard something unexpected.  There was a door open near the end of the hall, with light pouring out into the hallway.  The sound of running water could be heard in the hallway as well.

Jason stood in the open doorway and felt his jaw drop.  In this lost, forgotten hallway of this ancient mansion, a state of the art ready room met his gaze.  Jason could not believe what he was seeing.  Straight ahead from the open door was a computer station.  A laptop was set up on a computer dock, hooked up to three monitors mounted on a frame.  The middle monitor showed a slowly rotating Wayne family crest.  A large chair sat in front of the computer station.  It was a very similar chair, Jason noted, to the one set in front of the Bat-Computer in the cave.  A large metal file cabinet stood next to the computer station.  Jason could only imagine what was locked up inside.

Against the right hand wall was an antique drafting table, with several books and papers on top of it.  An angled floor lamp stood aimed at the drafting surface.  An infinitely comfortable-looking chaise lounge sat in the corner, between the drafting table and the file cabinet.  Several blankets and pillows were thrown haphazardly on the chair, and a small end table sat next to the chaise.

Jason turned to the left hand wall and almost collapsed.  Ranged along the entire surface of the wall were weapons.  It occurred to Jason that the weapons were laid out in a chronological fashion, almost a museum display.  From left to right, Jason saw a series of swords, axes, bows, crossbows, pikes, and a wicked looking mace.  Looking closer, Jason saw that each of the blades had seen use.  There were pits and chunks out of all the blades.  One broadsword even looked like it had been broken and welded back together.  All of the blades had also been meticulously oiled and polished to a mirror finish.  The bows and crossbows had been well maintained and cared for, and looked ready for use.

Moving into more modern forms of killing, Jason saw numerous muskets, flintlocks and pistols.  An ancient Blunderbuss brought a smile to Jason’s face, making him think of Elmer Fudd.  Like the edged weapons, these had been well cleaned and looked ready for a fight.  While he preferred his set of pistols, Jason had to admit that he would love to try out several of the old weapons on the wall.

A set of monogrammed and filigreed shotguns held a place of honor.  Jason recognized them instantly as the family hunting brace, which had been a prized relic of the Wayne family from over a century ago.  A set of Colt revolvers and Winchester rifles took the place of the family weapons from the 1800’s.  A pair of 1911’s showed family military service from this past century.

Jason, his mind sufficiently blown, muttered to himself, “What is all this?”

“I call it the Nest.”

Jason spun as he heard Damian’s voice from behind him.  “The what?”

Damian smiled softly, “The Nest, as in Robin’s Nest.  If Batman can have his cave, why can’t Robin have a nest?  If Father can have his study, why can’t I have mine?”

Jason looked at the youth strangely, “Why?”

“Why not,” Damian shrugged.

Jason considered his little brother for a minute before matching the shrug.  “Why not?”

Jason looked around the room again before saying, “Where did you get all this…stuff?”

Damian walked across the room and flopped down on the chaise and looked more relaxed than Jason had ever seen the boy.  Damian motioned to the other chair in the room, and Jason sat at the computer station as Damian said, “Most of this stuff was already here.  This room used to be the family armory.  I just cleaned them up and displayed them a bit better.  The computer setup was in mothballs in the cave.  The file cabinet and drafting table were in an old office down the hall.  I don’t think anyone will miss them.”

Damian reached over and opened the bottom drawer of the file cabinet and withdrew a yellow bag.  Opening it, he pulled out some chips and started eating.  Looking at the incredulous look on Jason’s face, Damian held out the bag and offered, “Funyuns?”

Jason took the bag with a smile, digging into his old favorite snack.  “I haven’t seen these in years.  How did you get Funyuns into the house?”

Damian gave a cryptic smile.  “The same way I got this chair in.  I’m just that good.”

“You’ve been hanging around Dick too much,” Jason said around a mouthful of onion-flavored rings.

“Huh, I always thought you were the sneaky one.”

“Someone had to teach Dick,” Jason smirked.  “Maybe I am the sneaky one, but my secret hiding place in the Manor didn’t have a hidden snack drawer.  Or an arsenal.”

“Were you looking for me for a reason, or did you just stop by to bug me?” Damian looked his older brother in the eye.

Jason shrugged, “I wasn’t actually looking for you, short stuff.  I was just wandering and I found an open door where there shouldn’t have been one.  Why did you leave the door open?”

“Bathroom break.  Why are you here?  Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Nope,” Jason said, leaning back in the computer chair, “Your pop calls it Wayne Day.  The whole company gets a forced day off.”

Damian’s eyes widened.  He said softly, “That’s today?”

“Yeah.  Do you know what it’s all about?  Bruce won’t talk about it.  Dick said it was to celebrate the company and its accomplishments.  Is that why you’re hiding out here, because we’re all home today?”

Damian sat up and smirked at the man.  “You’re _where_ today?”

“Damn it,” Jason grumbled as Damian laughed.  _The kid sounds almost normal when he laughs.  I wonder why he doesn’t do it more?_   “This is all your fault, you know.”

“Since when do you listen to me?” Damian asked.  He rose and grabbed two books from the top of the drafting table.  Heading for the door, Damian said, “You can have the rest of the Funyuns, if you want.  Just be sure to turn the light off and close the door when you’re done here.”

After finishing Damian’s Funyuns, Jason continued his wandering.  This time, he ended up in a more familiar part of the house.  He walked into Tim’s open door and found the teen staring intently at the screen on his laptop.

“You aren’t supposed to be working today, Little Timmy.”

“What?”  Tim jumped in surprise and stared at Jason for a second before whipping back to the screen and saying, “No no no no no…Damn it.  Thanks, Jason.”

Jason had walked up behind Tim and was trying not to laugh.  Tim hadn’t been working, he had been playing a flight simulator, and his plane had just crashed into a mountain.  “Let me know the next time you take the Bat-Plane out for a spin.  I’m…going to be somewhere else for that patrol.”

Tim turned in his chair to face his older brother.  “Well, now that you have my attention, what do you want?”

Jason smiled and said, “Get dressed.  Dickie is taking us to dinner and a movie.”

Tim looked strangely at Jason before checking his watch.  “We don’t need to leave for another hour, yet.  What’s the rush?”

Jason looked at Tim plainly and said, “Have you ever been to the movies with Dick?  He’s never on time.  I want to see the previews for once.  If we get him going now, we might just make it in time to get popcorn and good seats.”

Ten minutes later, the brothers walked out of Tim’s room, to find the other pair for their outing.  Tim asked, “Is there any special reason you’re pushing for the family outing?  It’s not really like you.”

Jason shook his head, “Dick was the one who was pushing.  I just want to get the most out of our tickets.  Besides, Dick and I can’t go out alone anymore.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Tim joked.

Jason growled as Tim unknowingly hit too close to the mark, “Look, the last time Dick and I grabbed a quick dinner together, the waitress thought we were a gay couple.  The time before that, Dick dragged Demon along.  A different waitress thought we were a gay couple out with our adopted son.”  Tim was laughing as Jason continued, “I have nothing against gays.  The guy that lives across the hall from my apartment is gay, and he is probably the nicest, friendliest guy in the building.  I help stop a lot of hate crimes while on patrol.  Why won’t anyone believe that I’m just having a meal with my brother?”

Tim made a show of leaning in and sniffing at Jason before saying, “Have you ever thought of changing your aftershave to something a little more…manly?”

“Shut up, Replacement.”

Smiling, Tim said, “So, you want all four of us together tonight?”

“Yes.”

“To do what?  Act as your beard?  How do you know the waitress won’t just think this is a double date?”

“God damn it.  I didn’t think of that.”  Jason then looked over at Tim and said, “I guess that could be funny, though.  I mean, if she did think it was a double date, how would you explain dating someone obviously much younger than yourself, and obviously underage?”

Tim looked genuinely uncomfortable at the turn of the topic, “Can we get off the topic of dating our jailbait brother?  Since he _is_ the only one of us with a girlfriend at the moment, I think we have nothing to make fun of him for.”

Jason shrugged, “Okay, I can go with that.  What do you suggest for the more immediate concern of tonight, though?”

Tim smirked, “Here’s a novel idea: why don’t we just go to a different restaurant?”

Jason was shocked into silence as he realized that all of the problems had been at the same restaurant.  “How did we not think of that before?  How did you think of that?”

Tim shrugged, “I know Dick.  He’s a creature of habit.  He almost always goes to the same restaurants.”

Jason smiled and clapped a hand on Tim’s shoulder.  “See?  That is the kind of thinking that makes me want to keep you around.”

Tim smiled, slightly embarrassed.  “So…this is two of us.  Have you seen anyone else around lately?”

Jason shook his head.  “No.  Well, I saw Demon earlier, but no one else.  Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Bruce all day.”

Tim looked thoughtful.  “Me neither.  Alfred told me to just leave him alone over breakfast this morning.  Must be something big if Alfred is giving us the boot, with permission to eat out and see a movie.”

“Let’s go find the D’s and get out of here,” Jason said.

Jason and Tim ran into Damian at the bottom of the stairs.  Jason stepped in front of him and said, “Oh, good.  There you are.  Get ready, we’re leaving in a couple minutes.  Where’s Dick?”

Damian looked confused, “Leaving?  I’m not going anywhere.  Grayson’s in the kitchen, talking to Pennyworth, though.”

Tim looked at the boy and said, “Yes, you are.  Come on, brother’s night out.  Dinner and a movie, Dick’s treat.  We’ll even pick something violent and gory, something that Bruce usually wouldn’t let you see.”

Damian looked down, thinking _that sounds like fun.  Why does it have to be tonight, though?_   “Um…why don’t you go without me?  I…I’m getting a…headache.  I think I’m just going to lay down for a bit.”

Tim looked critically at the boy, knowing he was lying.  Jason leaned closer and said with an evil smirk, “I will drag you if you don’t come willingly.”

“…And lose a hand in the process,” Damian replied testily.

Tim spoke up, “We aren’t leaving for a few minutes still.  Why don’t you go lay down, and we’ll check in on you to see if you’re feeling better before we go.  Sound good?”

Damian nodded slightly as he pushed past Jason.  “Yeah, that sounds good.”  _Too bad you won’t be able to find me when you come back._

Damian waited in his room until he was sure Tim and Jason were staying downstairs, and not watching his door.  When he was sure the coast was clear, he slipped out of his room and padded down to the end of the hall.  He automatically stopped at the door at the right end of the rotunda.  He remembered that the portal led up to the third floor.  He hadn’t been up there in months, and wondered if the drawing room was still ready for him.  _I don’t need it, not with my bedroom and my nest, but it’s nice to know it will always be there for me.  It was such a quick transition.  I wonder if Pennyworth cleaned up after me?  I should go have a look tomorrow, he shouldn’t have to clean up there._

Damian moved one door to his left.  He raised his hand, but hesitated before grabbing the knob.  After several seconds of indecision, he settled for knocking gently on the door.  A slightly muffled voice responded to his knock.

“Alfred, please.  I’m not ready yet.”

Damian took a deep breath before cracking the door open and sticking his head in.  “It’s me, Father.  I…I can go away, if you want.”

Bruce sat up, deftly wiping at his cheeks as he did.  “No, it’s okay, Damian.  Come in.”  The voice was a bit weaker than Damian hoped it would be.

Damian stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.  He took a step forward, but stopped as he looked slowly around the room.

Bruce smiled, “You haven’t been in here before, have you?”

“No, Father,” Damian said, distracted.

“Well, before you judge the furnishings too harshly, remember that no one has lived in her since 1980.  I would have thought you would be gone.  Isn’t the dinner and a movie coming up soon?”

Damian shook his head, “I’m not going.  There is something a little more important going on today.”

Bruce looked at his son with a calculating gaze.  Damian met the gaze a little nervously.  Bruce patted the bed next to him and said, “Come here, son.  Sit down.”

Damian did so obediently and looked up at his father.  “Now, what’s so important today,” Bruce asked.

Damian said, “Well…today.”

Bruce looked down curiously at his son, “You know what today is?”

“Tuesday?”

“Besides Tuesday.”

Damian nodded, “Besides Tuesday, it is the Wayne Enterprises company holiday of Wayne Day.  It’s also their anniversary.”

Bruce followed Damian’s eyes to a framed picture of Thomas and Martha Wayne, sitting on the nightstand, and gave a small smile.  He turned back to his son, his expression vacillating between hurt and pride as he said, “You know, you are the first of your brothers to figure that out.  Since you’ve figured that out, you know why today is so hard for me.  My father worked a lot.  Being a surgeon meant he couldn’t keep regular hours.  But…no matter how busy his schedule was, he always made sure to be home today.  Their anniversary became a celebration for us.  It was the only day of the year that we were guaranteed to be together.”

Bruce turned away and wiped at his eyes.  When he turned back, Damian had scooted next to his father.

“What’s that, son?”  Bruce nodded at the book that Damian was holding.

“Oh, this.  Um…I found this a while ago.  I…I was going to save this for your birthday, but I think today is a little more appropriate.”

Damian handed over the deep brown, leather-wrapped tome.  Bruce smiled as he took it, but gasped as he opened the old photo album.

“Damian,” Bruce said slowly, a note of wonder in his voice, “Do you know what this is?”

“Tt.  Of course I know what it is, Father.  Who is giving what to whom here?  I was able to figure out who some of those people are, but…I was hoping, maybe, you would go through it with me?  Just to see if I, you know, guessed right?”

Bruce looked over at the unexpectedly hopeful look on Damian’s face and smiled, realizing that there was nothing he would rather be doing at that moment.  He pulled the boy close and said, “I’d be glad to.”

For the next forty minutes, Father and Son took a trip through Wayne family history.  Bruce explained who everyone was in the pictures, at least, everyone he recognized.  He was surprised that he remembered so many old relatives.  Damian found an answer to a question that had been plaguing his mind for several months, ever since he found the monogrammed towels on the third floor.  Bruce explained that they must have belonged to Damian’s great great-grandmother, Dolores Wayne.  However, most of the pictures were more recent than that, so Bruce had surprisingly little trouble in recognizing people.

Bruce turned to a page, a little more than halfway through the book, and stopped.  He sighed at the picture of Thomas and Martha, smiling as they cradled a smiling young baby Bruce, in his first appearance in the book.  Bruce stared at the picture as he threw an arm around Damian’s shoulders and mumbled, “…It just makes me sad.”

Damian pressed himself tightly into Bruce’s side as he whispered, “Because they aren’t here?”

“Yes, but also that I never had a chance to take this same picture with you.”

“Oh,” Damian said.  _I don’t think there are any baby pictures of me.  I wonder how different I looked from Father at that age._   “I doubt Mother did anything so normal as to take baby pictures of me.”

Bruce didn’t seem to hear Damian as he pressed a finger to his mother’s face in the picture.  “They would have loved you, you know.”

Damian snorted, “Yeah, I’m sure the doctor and the socialite would get a kick out of your little assassin.”

Bruce tore his eyes from the picture as he said, “Maybe not, but the boy who found an old photo album, and thought it would make me happy, that is their grandson.  That is the boy they would cherish.”

“Too bad it’s not possible,” Damian said sadly, with no hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“I know,” Bruce replied, just as sadly, “I wish it were possible to have both them and you.  It breaks my heart that it isn’t.”

They were silent for a while before Damian looked up into the face he figured his would match in a few years.  “Father,” he asked hesitantly, “Are you happy?”

Bruce had to think hard before he could answer.  “You know, some people would look at me and think I should be the happiest man on the planet.  Others would look at me and wonder how I can get out of bed in the morning.  When you add all the plusses and minuses, then I think it comes out pretty even.  Then, you have days like today.  I was determined to spend the day in here, moping over everything I had lost.  Then you came along, and reminded me of everything I have gained.  It’s far better to spend our time living with the ones we have, than lamenting the ones we’ve lost.  Yes, I’m happy, Damian.  How about you?”

Damian looked shocked at the question.  “Me?  I…I think I’m still learning what happy is.  There was no ‘happy’, living with Mother.  I think I’m still trying to figure out what will make me happy, now that happy is an option for me.  I’m getting there.  I think that’s the best I can do for now.”

Bruce didn’t quite know how to respond to that, but figured it was the best he would get.  They continued to look through the pictures, until the last page.  The final picture in the book was of an eight year old Bruce, in the kitchen with his mother.  Bruce explained that she was trying to teach Bruce how to cook.

“Is that where I get my interest in cooking from, Father?” Damian asked.

Bruce gave a short bark of laughter.  “No.  I am, most definitely, not the cook in the family.  I could burn water.”

Damian looked strangely up at his father, “That’s impossible, Father.”

“If we were talking about an experiment down in the cave, I would agree with you.  But in the kitchen, trying to make something edible, it is entirely probable.  There is a reason Alfred doesn’t let me in the kitchen too often, Damian.”

Damian looked down before saying, “Then, maybe, I can pick up where this picture left off.”

Bruce looked back at the picture and tried to imagine Damian teaching him to cook.  “That sounds like fun, son.”

Bruce closed the photo album and looked over at the boy next to him.  “Thank you, Damian.  That was very thoughtful of you.  What’s that other book?  Did you find more photos?”

Damian picked up the second book and looked at the cover.  The embossed leather cover was close to matching the one Bruce had just set aside.  Damian looked hesitant, but shoved the book at his father.  “Not exactly, Father.  This book is what I was planning on saving for your birthday, but I figured doing both at the same time…well, today is a special day.”

Bruce took the book, noticing how Damian’s look changed from hopeful to nervous in a matter of seconds.  He opened the book, but instead of a photo album, he found a sketchbook.  Bruce had to look closely, but it soon became apparent that Damian had recreated the photo album in exacting detail.  Bruce opened the photo album next to him and compared the photos to the pencil sketches in the book on his lap.  The pictures were exactly the same.  Even the sketch of the photo of Bruce’s parents on their honeymoon was drawn slightly out of focus, to match the old picture.

Bruce flipped through this book much quicker than the last, until he reached the picture he was looking for, the shot of his parents holding smiling baby Bruce.

“Damian, I’m blown away.  This is…incredible.  This must have taken you…”

“Months, Father.  I did have a long break in between, but I started this last September.”

Bruce smiled at the pencil lines of his own infant face and said, “I think this is my favorite one.”

“Really?” Damian asked, leaning forward, “I think my favorite is the last one.”

Bruce turned to the last photo page, with him and his mother in the kitchen.  “This one is good, too.”

“No, Father.  I meant the last one.”

Bruce looked questioningly at his son.  “But, this is the last picture in the book.”

Damian smirked, “It may be the last picture in that book, but not this one.”

Curious, Bruce turned the page, and found something completely unexpected.  “Is this…” Bruce whispered.

“I had to guess a bit.  Okay, a lot.  I think this is pretty close to what your Father would look like if he were alive today.”

The picture was of a present-day Bruce standing next to exactly what he imagined his father would look like today.  Standing just a hair taller than Bruce, with broad shoulders and a streak of gray at his temples, there was no doubt in Bruce’s mind that he was posing with his father.

“Like you never got the picture with me, you also never got this one,” Damian whispered.

“Oh, son.  That…that is something special.  Thank you.  I can see why it is your favorite.  I think it may be mine now, too.”

“I like it, but it’s not my favorite.”

Bruce looked at the boy and said, “You said the last one is your favorite.  That means there’s…more?”

Damian looked pointedly at the book, indicating that Bruce should turn the page.  Doing so, he gasped again.  This next picture showed Bruce, standing with his arm around Dick’s shoulder.  Both men were smiling, as if posing for a casual picture that had never been taken.

“Oh, wow,” Bruce whispered.

Without having to ask, Bruce quickly flipped to the next page, a smile crossing his face.  The next picture showed Bruce and Jason.  They were standing back to back, their arms crossed over their chests.  Their faces were turned towards the front, like they had been posed for a picture.  Both were smiling, and looked very comfortable together.

The next picture was a little different.  Bruce and Tim sat on a couch.  Bruce had an arm wrapped around Tim as he read something over the teen’s shoulder.  Both were happy, and Bruce could imagine that the teen was sharing something other than work with him.

Bruce looked at Damian before turning the next page.  With as intricate as the last drawing was, Bruce expected the next one to be a masterpiece.  While it still was amazing in Bruce’s opinion, it was far simpler than Bruce expected.  Damian stood in front of Bruce, looking up at the man and smiling.  Bruce stood behind Damian, with his arms wrapped around the boy’s shoulders.  He was staring lovingly down at the child, and Bruce had to bite his cheek to keep his tears from smudging the page.

“You’re right, that may be the best one.  I can see why it’s your favorite.”

“I said, the last one, Father.”

Bruce turned one last page, and instantly he knew what Damian was talking about.  The setup was similar to a formal family portrait sitting, but the combination of members could never be.  Thomas Wayne, the stately, elder Thomas Wayne from Damian’s invented drawing, sat in a large arm chair, clearly the commander of the Manor.  On the man’s right hand side stood Bruce, slightly behind the chair.  Damian stood in front of Bruce, with Bruce’s right hand on his shoulder.  Behind the chair stood Jason, only his upper chest and head visible.  Next to him, on the seated man’s left hand side, stood Dick.  Bruce and Dick both had their arms around Jason’s shoulders.  Tim stood slightly in front of Dick, with Dick’s arm draped over Tim’s shoulder.  In a hint of whimsy, Titus was drawn laying on Thomas’ feet, with his head resting on Damian’s foot.

The image gave Bruce such a sense of longing that it hurt.  All of the people in the drawing were smiling, like this was the only place in the world that any of them wanted to be.

“Damian, you asked me earlier if I was happy.  I am, overwhelmingly and unequivocally.  Thank you.”

Damian smiled as he looked at the page.  “What should have been, Father,” Damian said quietly.

“What should have been,” Bruce agreed.

Bruce set the book aside and pulled Damian into a tight embrace, which Damian returned gladly.  He lay back, and as contented as they were, both fell asleep in minutes.

Alfred walked quietly into the room and found Father and Son sound asleep, curled in each other’s arms.  The butler smiled as he pulled a slim camera out of his pocket, one he always kept on him for just such occasions.  _That will make a fine addition to the scrapbook,_ Alfred thought.

Seeing the open sketchbook on the bed, Alfred carefully made his way around the sleeping duo to look at the open page.  Seeing the improvised portrait sitting, Alfred took another picture.  _I stand corrected,_ he thought; _that is a far better picture.  Forget the scrapbook; that one is going up on my wall._

As Alfred turned to leave the room, a hissed voice called his name.

“Pennyworth.  You weren’t planning any sort of blackmail with those pictures, were you?”

“Most certainly not, young sir,” the butler whispered.

“Good.  Then, go into my room; the center drawer of my desk.”

“What am I looking for, Master Damian?” The butler asked quietly and curiously.

“You’ll know it when you see it.  It’s right on top.”

Alfred looked at the boy quizzically, and was about to ask for more information, but Damian closed his eyes again and snuggled back tighter into his father, pulling the man’s arm snugly around his shoulder.

Alfred make his way quietly from the room and down the hall.  As soon as Bruce had instructed him to have the boys go out tonight, he knew he would still be making dinner for two of his charges.  At the time, he wasn’t quite sure which two it would be, but he was very glad that it was these two.

Entering the room of the youngest, Alfred wasted no time in going straight to the desk.  He opened the drawer and gasped as he pulled out a large sheet of paper.  On the paper was a larger copy of the same image he had found in the sketchbook, but with one difference.  In this picture, Alfred occupied a spot between Bruce and Jason.  He looked every part the proper butler, but a hint of a smile was starting to crack through the stiff upper lip.

Alfred stared at the image for several minutes before he noticed an index card paper-clipped in the upper corner.  Seeing his name on the card, Alfred removed it and read Damian’s tight, neat handwriting.

_Pennyworth-_

_If you are reading this, then either something terrible happened on patrol, or you have found and photographed Father’s gift.  Please don’t try to claim innocence, I believe I know you better than that at this point, which is why you are reading this.  Instead of you trying to print and frame the picture you took, I believe this one may be better for your purposes._

_I wanted to include you in Father’s picture, but I also wanted it to be…I don’t know, actually.  I wanted it to be family.  The Wayne men, as we should have been.  You can imagine it as a photograph, and I imagine you being behind the camera.  This version is far better for your purposes, which is why this one is for you._

_Thank you, Pennyworth.  This family wouldn’t exist if you hadn’t stepped up thirty-five years ago and saved it.  I’m alive, thanks to you.  I would appreciate if you kept quiet about this, but I would also request to be there when you get this framed.  That is entirely up to you, as this is now yours, and you may do with it as you please.  Thank you._

Alfred stuck the note in his pocket as he regarded the pencil portrait.  _That…wonderful child.  He always finds little ways to surprise me.  I suppose a trip to the frame store is in order tomorrow…after a trip to the ice cream parlor._

 

**A/N: Remember in the final note to School of Wrong, when I said I had five ideas for new stories?  Well, this isn’t one of them.  This came out of nowhere, but I like it.  It also means that there are six planned stories.  This was number three, so there are three more to come before I have to come up with something else.**

**Next up is Birds of a Feather.  It looks like it will be an extended one-shot.  Initial plan is around 25000 words.  It should be up in a few weeks.  The first part is already written, I just need to do some extra research for the rest of the story.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


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